A Life Like This
by The Lieutenant Sarcasm
Summary: Eliza was familiar with waking up in random places after a night out drinking with her friends, but if anyone had told her before that she'd wake up in a vegetable patch being poked by a confused fictional character, she'd have quit cold turkey. Now she has no choice but to join a mismatched band of warriors fighting to regain their home, hoping that she too will one day see hers.
1. Out of the fire

**So I've seen the Hobbit twice now and thought, I needs me some more. And what better way to hold off till the next film than to experience the first one through the eyes of someone new?**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Hobbit.**

Owwwww. Her head felt like it had been set on fire, and then hit by lightening, before being on stamped on by a horse. A fat horse.

Whoever told her alcohol was her friend was a lying bastard; probably the same one who was poking her. She groaned pathetically and buried her head in the shoulder opposite her new found nemesis.

"Miss? Miss, are you quite alright?" a timid voice asked from her left, prodding her shoulder softly with one hand. "It's just, you seem to have passed out in my vegetable patch."

That would explain the earthy smell and why she could feel the sun on her face.

Eliza opened her eyes slowly, squinting up at the somewhat familiar face of a young man with worried brown eyes and shaggy brown hair framing his face. He was leaning over her anxiously with one hand extended as if to help her up. He was the first thing she noticed, the second was that yes, she was in fact lying in a vegetable patch; she could see cabbages on either side of her face, and feel them under her back. The third thing she noticed was that the familiar stranger was wearing a brown coloured waist coat and cream colored trousers. How in the name of God did she end up on a farm? And more importantly, what was she wearing? She glanced down to see that she was wearing a dress with short frilly yellow sleeves, with a darker yellow bodice and skirt. She had not left her house in this.

She moved up into a sitting position, using one hand to rub at her eyes and she held the other up to silently ask him to give her a minute. Ok, so she went out last night, got momentously drunk and ended up in the country side. This she could deal with. She may not have been wearing her own clothes but it was better than waking up naked in her friend's closet again.

She took a steadying breath and slowly opened her eyes to see the stranger, who had taken several steps back-presumably to give her room, looking at her as if she was mentally disabled. Behind him she could see that there was a small grassy green hill, with what appeared to be circular wooden doors and windows around it at even intervals.

She brought her confused gaze from the hill, to the stranger, back to the hill, then back to the stranger. "Is that- Does that look like- What is that?" she finally managed to croak out, pointing accusingly at the abode behind him. She was not crazy. She _wasn't_. Her mother swore that she had her tested, but that looked like something she'd seen before, something in a _film_, and now that she thought about it the stranger looked remarkably similar to an actor she'd seen in a trailer recently. She was feeling nauseous. _ Don't throw up, don't throw up, don't throw up._

He turned, oblivious to her inner panic, to search for what she pointed to. "That?" he asked pointing uncertainly at the hill, to receive a small nod in confirmation, "Is Bag End. It's my home in the Shire. Are you telling me you don't know where you are?"

She opened her mouth like a gaping fish and stared at him in horror. This was not happening, it _couldn't be happening_. She'd play it off as a drunken dream, but she could _feel_ the sun on her face, and hear the birds in the trees, and in one moment of crystal clarity she knew that it was real.

"No,"she sniffed pathetically in reply, holding in her tears, "I'm afraid I know exactly where I am."

_In hell_.

She had finally drank herself to death and now she was in hell, wearing a stupid yellow dress and having a conversation with a young Bilbo Baggins. It serves her right, she didn't drink often, but when she did she drank entirely too much and always ended up doing stupid shit. Her mother always said it would land her in an early grave, but she would have gone sober for life if she knew there was even a remote possibility that she'd _end up in a fictional world. _

"Alright then," Bilbo said in a more cheerful tone, motioning with both of his hands for her to stand, "since you seem to be feeling better, I think you should be on your way. You've ruined enough of my garden as it is."

Ok, that was fucking rude.

There she was having a_ moment, _and all he was worried about was his vegetable patch. She turned her disgusted gaze upon him. _Strike one Mr Baggins, strike one._

"All I meant to say is that now that you're awake there's no need for you to be here-unless of course you want to be! Then that's perfectly fi-" Eliza cut of his rambling with a pointed finger in his face, ignored her nauseous, aching body, and dragged herself to her feet. Damn, she was feeling really light headed.

"All I meant to say was tha-" he tried to explain himself, nervously wringing his hands together, only to again be cut off.

"You want me gone, so I'll go." She didn't know where she'd go, or how she'd get there-seeing as standing was proving to be a challenge, never mind walking. She wouldn't stay where she wasn't wanted-be it by a real person or not. She'd just find a nice leafy bush to crawl under and die. With that in mind she hiked up her skirt, turned to give him what she hoped was an indignant glare, and stepped over two rows of cabbages onto the cold stone pathway.

She paused, scrunched up her face in confusion, and glanced down to see what was causing the weird sensation in her feet. What she saw caused her to exhale sharply and turn her horrified gaze towards a confused looking Bilbo. She had one last thought before the blackness descended and she fell to the ground.

_Why is the hobbit taller than me?_

**Ok, so I know it's not very long, but the next chapter will be longer I promise! Leave a review to let me know what you think!**_  
_

**-The Lieutenant Sarcasm**


	2. Fat little Hobbits

**Hey all. Chapter two is here! I was going to wait a few days to write it, but the response from you guys was so awesome that I fired it out a little early. This chapter is dedicated to _Dr. Prongsie_ for the fantastic review. Congratulation, whoop, whoop. Now, onto the story!**

Eliza was in that state between waking up and being fully alert. She felt groggy, her forehead was stinging and she could smell what appeared to be coal, and the earthy smell of the countryside. _Fuck my life, _she thought in despair, remembering the previous events of the day. She was currently in a make believe world.

For the second time in one day she gingerly opened her eyes to see Bilbo Baggins looking at her worriedly, however this time he was seated across what appeared to be a small, cozy bedroom on a wooden rocking chair. The walls were painted a light green and there were several fully stocked bookshelves along them and a small roaring fire directly across from the bottom of the bed. The small circular window in the room, which seemed to have been made from highly polished wood, was slightly ajar, letting the fresh country air into the room. Eliza took all of these details in by the time Bilbo noticed she was no longer comatose.

"Ah," he began rising slowly and putting down a small, blue, paperback book onto the wooden table beside the bed,"yes, you're awake. That's good, I wasn't sure when you'd awaken, you've had a nasty fall I'm afraid. That's twice now you've passed out in my garden." She couldn't tell if he was trying to lighten the mood or if he was blaming her; he had one of those faces that always seemed serious.

She was half surprised he didn't just leave her there, or roll her out of his garden with his foot, and pretend he had never seen her. It was kind of nice of him to bring her in here though. She was lying in a spacious fourposter bed with a heavy green quilt tucked up to her neck. She was ever so delighted to see that she was still wearing the yellow abomination, though she supposed it would be disturbing if she wasn't. Leaning up on both her arms she used her head to gesture pointedly to the bed.

"I carried you in here," he answered her unspoken question hurriedly, his hands wringing each other nervously. "When you fell that is. I carried you in. It wasn't easy mind you, but I did it." Excellent, he was calling her fat. She had just been called fat by a hobbit. That was just the icing on top of her shitty day. "I also bandaged your head." he continued, pointing above his right eyebrow which caused her to reach up a hand to her own. She could feel a thin bandage running horizontally across the top of her forehead, right over the stingy section, and round the back of her head. "You cut it when you fell. Nothing else seems injured, thank heavens, and your dress seems intact."

Yes, thank god she broke her fall with her face.

"Never mind all that though, how are you feeling? Hungry? Thirsty? I can whip something up if you like?" Now that she thought about it, she was rather hungry, and she could really use some time on her own. "I'm still feeling a little dizzy," she tried to tell him, though her voice was still a little rough. "Would you mind giving me a few moments by myself? I could use some soup too if you have it." They did have soup here, right? She didn't feel up to solid foods just yet, and she really wasn't fond of porridge. She'd eat it if she had to though, desperate times and all that.

Bilbo just looked relieved to have something to do, and maybe a reason to leave the room. "Of course, I'll give you some privacy." With that he left the room, leaving her to her own thoughts. No word on the soup though.

She got more comfortable, scooting backwards so that her back was to the wall and she could lean her head back and look at the sapphire canopy.

She really needed to get her shit together, she was a _Shepherd_, they didn't have emotional breakdowns. So she woke up in a fictional world, _so what. _At least she wasn't lying in pieces in a ditch somewhere. She was on Middle Earth, how many people had dreamed of something like this? How many would kill for it? Eliza hadn't seen the Hobbit, but she'd loved the LOTR's films. She'd taken a little archery in her day too, and she could clobber idiots with the best of them. She'd just go along with Bilbo, fight some bad guys and then BAM! She'd be sent back home. And maybe when she got there she'd become a motivational speaker, cause she was starting to feel fantastic about this whole fiasco.

That was of course until she slipped her feet out from under the quilt and onto the floor.

She stared morosely at them, sniffed once, then promptly burst into tears.

It wasn't_ fair_. Her feet, once pale and slender, were now large, unattractive hobbit feet, covered in a smattering of coppery brown hair.

She could deal with being transported into a book, but who the fuck had turned her into a hobbit? _Ugh, screw you vodka and coke!_

Using her right hand she grabbed the quilt and brought it up to her face, making no attempt what-so-ever to stifle her sobs. How long would she be here? What would her family think when she didn't come home? And more importantly, who would feed her hamster Zevran while she was gone? If she got back and he wasn't still a fat, content little bastard, then heads would roll.

Bilbo, having obviously heard the loud wails she was producing, ran panicked into the room, only to freeze when he saw her disheveled appearance. Her hair, which took on a life of its own every night, was sticking out every which way; her eyes were red and she was pretty sure her nose was running. She sniffed loudly and wiped her face unattractively on the soft blanket. She could practically feel his grimace from across the room.

"Those sheets actually belonged to my mother, so if you don't mind, I'd rather you didn't do that." he looked both apologetic and frightful as he said it.

God she was a bitch, ruining his mothers sheets like that. Heaven forbid he'd have to fucking wash them.

"I'm sorry," she apologized all the same; her mother had attempted to raise a lady after all. "I'm having a bit of an identity crisis." She finished, gesturing vaguely to her entire body, just as her tears tempered off.

"I would help you with that if I could, but I'm afraid I don't even know your name. I'm Bilbo Baggins." He tried to offer her a friendly smile, probably trying to appease the crazy lady, and held out his hand for her to shake.

She gave a humorless laugh, she was more than aware of who he was. Nevertheless she grasped his hand in hers and shook it as firmly as she could in her current state; she despised people who gave flimsyass handshakes. "I'm Eliza. Eliza...Underhill." She couldn't exactly tell him that she came from a different world. If she wanted to get through whatever-it-was that she was suppose to get through, then she had to play the hand she was dealt.

She was so smart sometimes.

"Well Miss Underhill," he released her hand and dragged the old rocking chair over to the side of the bed. He sat in it, and offered her his full attention. "What seems to be the problem?"

The problem? What in Gods name could she tell him? _I'm awfully sorry to tell you Mr Baggins, but you happen to be a fictional character in a book I never bothered to read. And as it turns out, God hates me and so decided to trap me in said book with no way to contact my family or friends. Now I have to convince you, the only person I've met in this fake world, to let me stay with you cause I have nowhere else to go. _Yeah, that would go over real well with him.

"The problem is, that I've recently found myself separated from home. I've been wondering around for some time, not knowing what to do or where to go." The secret to telling a convincing lie was to build it upon a small amount of truth. Right now she was feeding off her actual emotions and she could feel her eyes tearing up again. _Come on, offer me a place to stay. Offer me a place to stay._

_"_You can't be reunited with your family?" he questioned, hands resting beside her on the bed and his brows drawn up in a serious expression. This caused Eliza to shake her head sadly in reply. Que pathetic sniffing.

"Not in this life, no." In this life she was a fucking hobbit. Her family would piss themselves laughing if they saw her now.

"Well then, there's only one thing for it. You'll stay here." he was nodding his head towards her hopeful face. "That is, until we can find somewhere else for you."

_Fuck yes! Mission accomplished._

**A special thanks to everyone who took the time to review the last chapter and follow the story. In less than a day it's gotten more followers than my other stories combined. It's both fantastic and sad at the same time :L I'm going to edit the first two chapters tomorrow, cause I'm a lazy bitch who needs to fix them up, so if you see anything that needs changing let me know! **

**-The Lieutenant Sarcasm**


	3. Protective Instincts

**Sooo, I guess my heartfelt apologies are in order. I did fully intend to update this ages ago, and I am so blown away by all your support, I just haven't had access to a working laptop in what feels like_ forever! _I did get my old one fixed so hopefully chapters will be coming out on a more regular basis now.**

**__This chapter is dedicated to _HobbitFan _for both of your wonderful reviews, they really made me smile.**

She had been on middle earth for ten days. Ten confusing, tear-filled days. The first few days she had missed her family, her friends, her _home_ so much that no amount of false bravado could prevent her tears. As time passed though she was getting better at handling the separation, and her habit of bursting into tears whenever Bilbo mentioned her home had slowly abated. However she missed him turning into a floundering mess so much, and as it was actually a good way to stop Bilbo questioning her pathetically weak lie she found herself purposefully crying the last few times he slipped up and mentioned it. She was so smart sometimes.

Currently she was standing in Bilbo's bedroom, eyes scrunched up, one hand on her chest and the other holding a fluffy green duster to the face as she sang her little heart out into it,

"…I tried to show you just how much I care," Eyes still closed she swept the duster down across the empty strip of Bilbo's bookshelf, "I'm tired of words and I'm to hoarse to shout, but you've been cold to me so long I'm crying icicles instead of tears!" She continued the song as she swept around the room, dusting as she went. Of course she made doubly sure the house was empty before she began her outstanding solo performance. Of the many skills and talents she possessed, singing wasn't one of them, or so she'd been told in primary school when she was the only child not to get into the choir. The only one. Like every other child in the _entire school_ got in, except her.

Well fuck Mr Evans and his perfect little school choir anyway, she didn't even care. She was the only person worthy enough to hear her beautiful voice anyway, and she had to say, it sounded like there were _angels_ in the room.

Eliza ducked down and threw the ridiculously fluffy duster under Bilbo's bed, before leaving the room. She'd developed a habit of using Bilbo's stuff and then throwing it in random locations; firstly, because the other hobbit was a hoarder and seemed to own all the belongings of all his ancestors that ever lived, and secondly, because she thought it was funny to watch his baffled expression when he went to get something that wasn't there.

She trudged into the kitchen, yawning widely and stretching her arms above her head, barely registering the sound of the front door opening and closing; another benefit of her slightly pointed hobbit ears, other than looking completely badass, was her increased hearing. Before her unexpected journey to Middle Earth, Eliza had been one of those people who was constantly asking people to repeat themselves, maybe it was because of her fondness for turning her ipod up high, maybe not, but she lived by the rule where you could only ask someone to repeat themselves twice before you had to just _guess_ what they said. Well that was a thing of the past, her hearing had never been better.

The shaggy mob of brown hair belonging to her house mate popped around the corner, scaring the shit out of her. Her hearing may have improved but Hobbits could be sneaky when they wanted.

Minor heart attack aside, she had to admit that he was looking rather dapper; brown trousers, white shirt and a yellow waistcoat which had a golden swirly pattern on the front. Most girls had a thing for tuxes; she had a thing for waistcoats.

"Miss Underhill," he greeted her from the doorway, nodding politely.

"Mr Baggins," she returned sheepishly, after she abruptly stopped yawning like a lion as she had a tendency to do when alone.

"Done for the day?" Bilbo asked her absentmindedly as he crossed the room and grabbed the kettle.

"Yup," she replied, graceful as ever as she pulled a chair out from the table and plopped herself down, content to watch him make tea. "I've brushed floors, dusted bookshelves and cleaned the hearths." She was like a regular old Oliver Twist.

"Yes, yes, that's wonderful." He replied distractedly, bringing two cups down from their place on the shelf.

"I wouldn't exactly call it wonderful," she said slowly, leaning cautiously on the left hand side of the table to try and see his face; he had his thinking/worrying face on; his brow was crinkled and his chocolate coloured eyes were staring off into space. "But I pulled what I think was once a bird out of the chimney in the sitting room, so the house no longer smells like ass." And the house had most definetly smelled like ass the last two days; when she realised it was coming from the sitting room she had just closed the door, hoping that Bilbo would man up and deal with it first. "You're welcome."

She leaned back in her chair, hands folded together in her lap, waiting for her praise. Of course Bilbo would be less willing to thank her when he found out that her removing the bird consisted with her rolling the mangled corpse into one of his pillow cases with the end of her broom, and then tossing said pillow case over one of his neighbours hedges before running away.

"That was very brave of you," he told her handing her a cup of tea.

What did he think she said? The bird was already fucking dead, she didn't actually have to fight it or anything.

She accepted it with a confused smile, taking a sip of the warm sugary liquid whilst Bilbo sat down with his own cup directly across from her. She watched him sipping at his own drink, his eyes staring distractedly at the table. They sat that way for a few long moments before Eliza broke the silence.

"Bilbo," she began, one hand resting on her warm cup, the other pressed to her chest. She was staring into his eyes now that he was paying attention; making sure he held her gaze. "I would like to think we're friends by now, wouldn't you?"

"Yes, I-I would consider us such." He held her gaze as best he could, all the while looking slightly intimidated.

She had that effect on people.

"Well as your friend, I would like to help carry your burdens," she brought the hand on her chest down to rest on Bilbos own free hand, causing the Hobbit to jump. She hid her smirk, trying to keep up the mock serious face she had on. "Your problems are my problems."

"It's just a minor dispute, it's nothing that won't resolve itself in time." She noticed that he said it all whilst staring at her hand on his. She retracted hers slowly, not wanting him to get the wrong impression.

"_Bilbo_."

He let out a reluctant sigh and wrapped his now free hand around his tea. Eliza did the same, and took another sip.

"I may have placed an order several days ago with Ms Burrows, for items to be made with a certain material which had to be delivered from Bree. My order came today, but it seems that Mrs Danderflower placed an order for the same material yesterday and has taken my order for her own," He took a small sip of tea, staring down at the table, while Eliza stared at him with building indignation. "I-I'll just wait a few days for the next delivery, it's the gentlemanly thing to do."

Well fuck that.

No one made Bilbo Baggins look like someone sparta kicked his puppy. No one. Yeah, he was a rude Bastard some of the time, but it was never on _purpose. _He was a good guy; he tried to be polite when he could, and hell, he even let a complete stranger share his home cause she had nowhere else to go.

Danderflower bitch was goin down.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Iris Danderflower, bout yay high?" She held her hand about three and a half feet off the ground. Of course most hobbits were about 'yay high' but that was beside the point.

She stood suddenly, "Right then. Don't you worry Bilbo, I'll have this little misunderstanding sorted out within the hour," She held up her hand to him, stopping his protest before it began. His mouth opened and closed comically, unsure of what he should say, before he gave up and slumped back in his chair.

She nodded encouragingly at his obedience, she was training him up nicely, and spotting something that could help her convince Iris Danderflower to stop being a greedy, inconsiderate bitch, she made her way over to the tin beside the stove that some utensils were kept in.

Keeping her back to Bilbo-he was still slumped in his chair, she grabbed the wooden spoon out of its little tin and discretely slipped it up her sleeve; she grew up in Ireland, she knew the damage a wooden spoon could inflict.

Making her way to the kitchen door, her weapon cool against her skin, she stopped and turned to the other Hobbit. "Bilbo, what do you need the material for? You know, just in case I need to know."

Bilbo's reaction surprised her; he went from staring at the table to looking up at her with a faintly embarrased expression, and a light blush worked its way up his cheeks. "I em, I ordered some of the comfort ware you asked for." He got it out quickly, his blush intensifying.

Well if that wasn't the most adorable thing ever. Eliza sat staring at him with one of the looks she reserved for orphaned kittens and her little Zevran. It did nothing to help Bilbo, and he sat fidgeting in his seat.

When she first arrived, seeing as she had no clothes but the abomination on her back, Bilbo- who it turned out was exceedingly wealthy, was kind enough to supply her with the makings of a new wardrobe. All it took was a measuring session from the elderly Ms Burrows, in which she got closer to an elderly woman than she_ ever_ wanted to be, and the next few days saw her supplied with a colourful range of dresses, underwear (if you could call it that), and sleepwear. She made it a point of telling Bilbo that though female hobbits didn't usually wear 'male' clothes, she grew up wearing trousers and shirts around her home for comfort. He didn't understand why, but she told him that's what she was most comfortable in.

She gave him one last look that screamed, "You're adorable!" and told him in an overly emotional voice, "I'll be right back."

She walked quickly through the kitchen door towards the exit. Iris wouldn't know what hit her; like fuck was she spendin more time in a dress than absolutely necessary.

She opened the front door and what she saw stopped her inner emotional rant in it's tracks. Too shocked to move, she sat stirring in awe.

"Gandalf."

.

.

.

Shit, did she say that out loud?

**Good? Bad? Somewhere in between? Let me know!**

**I'm also sorry that I haven't replied to some of your wonderful reviews, but I only have limited laptop time and I thought you guys would rather an update. If you guys do want to contact me though, feel free to PM with whatever cause I found out I can reply to those on my ipod!**

**Anyway, next dedication goes out to whoever gets the name of the song first!**

**-The Lieutenant Sarcasm**


	4. Unexpected Visitors

**Ok, so you all know that I couldn't write much cause I didn't have a laptop, and the old one we got fixed ended up being not so fixed after all. So, being the awesome person that I am, I bought a new one! Took a while to save up for it which is why I haven't updated in forever!**

**This chapter is dedicated to _PrincessMnMz_, who not only got the song first, but also has me worrying after their local wildlife. Congratulations!**

_Holymotheroffuckinggod_.

Gandalf was standing less than 3 feet away from her. Like _the Gandalf. _

The dude she spent a lot of her younger years watching! She was not mentally stable enough to handle this.

As she stared creepily at him, she noticed that he was wearing a tall pointed grey hat, a long grey cloak and a silver scarf. His brown staff was clutched in his right hand, and he had a long white beard and bushy eyebrows that stuck out beyond the brim of his hat.

It was Gandalf the Grey.

And he was staring at her face gently with a look of mild confusion, as if trying to place her face. All the while Eliza sat staring at him with her mouth hanging open like a complete and utter idiot._  
_

"I don't believe we've met before, my dear."

"N-N-No. Em, we haven't met before. Sir." she muttered out awkwardly, rooted to the spot, using the door handle for support. Was her face heating up? It felt like her face was heating up. Dammit she was blushing. And Jesus Christ, he was massive! Hobbits really were midjits; she wasn't sure when she was surrounded by other hobbits. She had to crane her neck just to look up at him.

"And yet you know who I am." he said gently.

"Eh, yeah...Bilbo's told me a bit about you," she said it all slowly, unsure of what lie she had been about to sprout; she just hoped it wouldn't come back to bite her in the ass later. "I kinda put two and two together. I'd say you're the only wizard who's been around here for a while."

"Indeed I am. I haven't seen Mr Baggins in quite some time, however you seem a bit young to be his wife."

"Yes! I mean no. I'm not too young that is, I'm just not his wife." Taking a steadying breath, she thrust out her hand. "I'm Eliza Underhill, a distant relative of Bilbo. He's just letting me stay with him for a few weeks, no marriage involved." She realized pretty early on that with her dark brown hair, blue eyes, and pale complexion, she kinda looked a little like Frodo. She got Bilbo to agree to tell people she was a distant relative so they wouldn't think anything untoward was happening. It didn't stop some of the whispers that followed her around though.

She tried to smile reassuringly but Gandalf was giving her an indescribable look, before he slowly reached out his hand and shook hers. It was only much later on that Eliza realized that they don't shake hands on Middle Earth.

Clearing her throat awkwardly, she pushed the door further open and gestured inside with her other arm. "Would you like to come in? Bilbo's just in the kitchen."**  
**

"I would, thank you. He and I have matters to discuss." Gandalf took his hat off and stepped past her into the hallway. She closed the door and led him to the kitchen. "He's just through here," she told him as she entered the kitchen.

"That was quick," Bilbo began, before he saw their unexpected guest. He stood awkwardly from where he had been sitting where she left him. "I'm sorry, can I help you?" Bilbo was looking confusedly between Eliza, who was leaning awkwardly against the wall, and Gandalf, who was standing in the door way looking completely at ease, waiting to be introduced.

"That remains to be seen," the wizard replied, gazing at the hobbit under large bushy eyebrows. He then turned his gaze expectantly to Eliza.

She cleared her throat and gestured towards the wizard, "Bilbo, this is Gandalf. Gandalf," she gestured towards the hobbit, "this is Mr Baggins. Gandalf said he had some business with you?" She turned the last part into a question, gazing at the wizard for confirmation.

"Indeed I do." he replied cheerfully, "And I would take it by that wooden spoon up your sleeve, and that look of determination that you had only moments ago, that you have business to attend to as well?" He was giving her a playful look.

She could only nod meekly in reply and hide her arm behind her back away from Bilbo's curious gaze.

She began backing slowly out of the room when Bilbo gave her a nod to tell her it was alright, and that he didn't feel like he was about to be murdered by the stranger she'd just let into his home. She backtracked out past the front door, grabbing the handle. "I'll just be going!" she called out before slamming the door shut loudly, to make it abundantly clear that she was leaving and was not in fact going to eavesdrop on their conversation.

She wasn't even remotely curious about why the mystical wizard had shown up completely out of the blue to talk specifically to Bilbo. She really should just go up and find that order stealing bitch, and take back what was hers; if she had to spend just one more day in a gravity defying dress, she was going to cut a bitch. In half.

But on the other hand, her listening into the conversation now would only spare Bilbo the pain of having the details beaten out of him later. And she wasn't really picky about the time of the day she physically threatened people, so she could always go get her stuff back later.

Thinking fuck it, she used her awesome sneaky ninja skills and crept up on the cold stone path surrounded the house until she was outside the kitchen window. She pressed her back against the building and put her ear beside the window, swatting at one of the over hanging flowers that was tickling her face. She could hear their conversation clearly enough; the windows weren't all that thick, and her hearing was now bad-ass.

"...it's decided then. It will be very good for you, and most amusing for me. I shall inform the others."

"Inform the who? What? No. No, wait. We do not want any adventures here, not today. My cousin and I are perfectly happy here on our own, thank you very much. I can't very well leave her here."

"Then we shall take her with us. I dare say two Hobbits are better than one."

"I said no thank you. If you're looking for some adventuring Hobbits I suggest you try over the hill or across the water." Even she could hear the finality in Bilbo's voice. "If that's all, I would appreciate it if you could show yourself out."

And that would be Bilbo being his adorable self, kicking the ancient wizard out of his house. She couldn't hear Gandalf reply, but she could hear the door slam on the other side of the house. Someone was pissed off.

She spun around to face the window and gazed through squinted eyes at Bilbo. The other hobbit wasn't looking at her, but when he glanced up, she raised her hand to point accusingly at him. He turned to look at her, as he often did, like she was a crazy person and he didn't have a clue how she ended up in his house. They stayed like that silently for a minute or two; she wanted to make sure she wouldn't run into Gandalf again. Feeling like she left enough time for someone to walk down a path, even someone as old as Gandalf, she turned abrubtly and walked back around the stone path more determined than ever.

If there was even a remote possibility of her going on an adventure, then she wasn't doing it in a fucking dress.

**I now make a solemn oath that all reviews will be replied to! I also promise to update faster!**

**Someone left a review suggesting I up the rating to an M because of all the cursing. Do I need to? I will if I have to, I just don't think this story qualifies as an M. Let me know what you guys think! I'm a bit clueless some times. **

**-The Lieutenant Sarcasm**


End file.
